Dean's Decision
by IMTheresa
Summary: A time comes in everyone's life when they reach a crossroads and have to figure out which way to go. Dean has reached that point, and because he doesn't do anything halfway, he's standing between life and death.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I wish I had the foresight to create the Winchesters, but sadly I'm not that creative. I hope the people responsible for such amazing characters don't mind me taking them out to play every now and then._

The bar was crowded and noisy; just the kind of place to get lost in. He stood near the door, with a beer in his hand, watching people dancing, flirting and drinking. There were pool tables in the back, but he wasn't in the mood to play. Honestly, he wasn't even in the mood to be at the bar, but his only alternative was to go back to his motel room alone.

"Hey there."

He looked at the young, blonde woman who was standing in front of him. Normally she was exactly the kind of woman he would have noticed. She was wearing a tight, low-cut sweater over a short black skirt and her long blonde hair fell over her shoulders in waves.

"What are you doing over here, all alone, in the corner?" she purred.

"Drinking a beer."

Not deterred by his monotone answer, she leaned closer to him. "How about I buy you another one?"

"I'm not done with this one."

She smiled. "You're not making this easy."

"Sorry, but I'm not really in the mood."

"I can change that." she whispered into his ear.

"Not tonight, you couldn't." he looked at her, a little disappointed, and walked toward the men's room.

He was standing at the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror, when his cell phone started to ring. He looked at the caller ID and considered not answering it, but he could never deny his younger brother anything. "Hey, Sam."

OooOooOooO

He finally fell into bed sometime after three in the morning, though he'd been tired and ready for sleep hours before. Now even though he was a little too drunk, he knew he'd probably be feeling it in the morning.

He'd been almost okay for a change, but the phone call from his brother had been like a punch to the gut. Sam didn't call with bad news; in fact, he called for no other reason than to say hello. He didn't say it, but Dean could hear the concern in his voice. So the older brother did what he always did and tried to sound like he was fine so the younger brother wouldn't worry. Sometimes it was just too much.

OooOooOooO

The next morning actually didn't start until almost one in the afternoon and Dean was glad he'd thought ahead to book the room for two nights. He stayed in bed after his eyes opened, hoping the room would stop spinning. Deciding it was close enough when the room slowed down, he made his way to the bathroom thinking he might throw up. He was glad to be wrong and took a shower instead.

He stood under the hot water for a long time. He liked the way it felt, beating on his back, and he realized he had nowhere to be anyway. He hadn't had a lead on a job in weeks and he was spending way too much time not hunting and killing things.

_What are you gonna do when it's all over?_

_It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be something to hunt._

Dean shook his head, trying to block out that conversation he'd had with Sam so long ago. Instead, he only managed to make himself dizzy and he had to lean against the wall of the shower to keep from falling.

What if he was wrong, Dean wondered as he dried off a few minutes later. What if there wasn't always going to be something to hunt? Surely evil still existed now, but he was damned if he could find it. It had been weeks since Sam had a vision for Dean to investigate. And, when he thought about it, the conversation he'd tried to block out didn't happen that long ago, but it seemed like a lifetime.

OooOooOooO

The final battle with the demon happened two years ago. Six months after the car accident that nearly killed them all, they were healed enough to start the search again. John was in a wheelchair, but he was an expert at spotting patterns and putting impossible clues together and he used these skills to find the demon.

He didn't want his sons to fight it alone. Truth be told, he would have preferred them to be anywhere other than in the fight. Having nearly lost Dean when the demon possessed John, he realized that there were things he wasn't willing to sacrifice to the fight. He wasn't willing to sacrifice his sons.

But John had no choice but to let them fight. They earned the right to destroy the demon; they'd given their childhoods for that right. Besides, he was no good to them in a wheelchair.

_I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way._

But Sam hadn't wanted to leave right away. Their father was still recovering, mentally and physically, and Sam desperately wanted to mend their relationship before putting any kind of geographical distance between them again. And he wasn't ready to be apart from Dean, having watched him nearly die twice in less than a year.

Eventually, though, Sam was ready to leave. He arranged to get back into Stanford and this time, instead of leaving for school alone and scared, he was accompanied by his family. They helped him move into an apartment off campus and made sure he had what he needed before they left. They promised to keep in touch and spend as much time together as possible.

OooOooOooO

Dean got dressed and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at the laptop Sam had left with him and thought about starting another search for something supernatural to fight. Instead, he laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he decided to go look for something to eat, but he was sitting in a corner of a fast food restaurant when his next gig presented itself.

OooOooOooO

Sam frowned when he got Dean's voicemail again. When he spoke to him two nights before, Sam could tell something was wrong. It sounded like Dean was in a bar and, while Sam had never denied him his fun, Dean denied it. Sam didn't push him, instead tried to keep the conversation light. He was worried about his brother, but knew if he pushed too hard Dean would only put up the walls it took Sam so long to break down.

After his last class, he walked into the coffee shop near his apartment and ordered his usual drink. Nodding to some acquaintances at a nearby table as he left a few minutes later, Sam resisted the urge to call Dean again. He left four messages and he knew Dean would call as soon as he got them. It bothered Sam not to know where he was, and that he was okay, but it wasn't unlike Dean not to be in touch for a few days.

Back at his apartment, he took his coffee and a textbook out to the balcony and spent the next couple of hours reading. When his phone rang later, he assumed it would be Dean. He was wrong.

OooOooOooO

Sam borrowed a friend's car and headed for Phoenix, Arizona. It took just over twelve hours to make the drive; he didn't stop longer than it took to pump gas. Each hour on the road felt like an eternity and by the time Sam made it to his destination, he was completely on edge. His hands were shaking as he approached the information desk and his voice cracked when he asked about his brother.

Dean's eyes were closed when Sam stepped into his hospital room. Sam looked at the familiar machines monitoring his brother and was somewhat relieved to see that his condition appeared stable. He would search out more information later, but right now Sam was content to sit by Dean's bedside and talk to him. He quietly moved a chair closer and took up his position, laying a hand gently on Dean's arm. His brother stirred, but didn't wake.

Sam had no idea how long he'd been sitting there when a doctor walked in. "Oh, hello. You must be the brother. I heard the social worker had gotten in touch with you."

"Sam." he stood up. "How's my brother?"

The doctor glanced at Dean's chart. "He's stable. He has two broken ribs, sprained ankle and a head injury. He's been unconscious since he was brought in and we've not been able to determine the severity. Your brother is in a coma."

Sam wasn't prepared for the doctor's bluntness. "Do you know what happened?"

"I'm sorry, no. He was brought to the emergency room in an ambulance. I know he was found in an alley by a coffee shop worker taking out the trash. A police officer was here earlier waiting for your brother to wake up; I imagine he'll be back."

Sam nodded. He wasn't sure if the doctor was overly cold of if his own exhaustion was coloring his opinion, but Sam realized he was his only source of information at the moment. He stood in a corner of the room while the doctor examined Dean.

"His vital signs are strong." the doctor told Sam. "That's a very good sign. I'll be back to check on him later."

Sam nodded again and returned to his brother's side. A moment later a nurse walked in. Sam judged her to be in her mid-fifties and he was immediately made comfortable by her warm smile.

"Sam?" she guessed. "I'm Elizabeth. I've been with your brother since he was brought in. Lucky me; I'm working a double shift."

"Hello." Sam shook her hand.

"It looks like you've worked a double shift, too."

"I feel like it. I drove all night to get here."

"You met Dr. Reynolds, I assume?"

Sam nodded.

"Don't let him bother you. He's much better with his patients than with his patients' families." she said as she fussed around Dean.

Sam suddenly liked her very much.

"There's some coffee out at the nurse's station. I'll get you a cup." Elizabeth smiled.

"Thank you."

She looked at Sam encouragingly. "Your brother is in excellent shape. I'm sure he's fighting this very hard."

Sam glanced at his brother. He wasn't sure he agreed with Elizabeth.

She left the room and returned a few minutes later with a cup of coffee, a doughnut, a pillow and a blanket.

"Thank you very much." Sam began. "But –"

He was interrupted by an orderly pushing a reclining chair into the room.

"Your brother will need this when he wakes up." Elizabeth said. "In the meantime, why don't you make use of it?"

Sam was grateful for her kindness, but he knew he was tired when he felt tears in his eyes.

Left alone with Dean, Sam ate the doughnut and sipped on the coffee. He didn't mean to, but he was exhausted, and fell asleep a few minutes later.

OooOooOooO

Dean knew that Sam was with him. He heard Sam come into the room and felt it when Sam placed a hand on his arm. Even if he'd been able to respond, Dean wouldn't have. He was comfortable in the near darkness and was able to rest for the first time in a long time; maybe the first time since his mother died. Even as he listened to Sam talk to him, Dean could see Mary off in the distance. She was wearing the long white nightgown she'd died in, her blonde hair falling on her shoulders. She almost seemed to glow in the fog that surrounded her.

_God, can you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon? _

_Let's not get ahead of ourselves._

_I know, I'm just saying what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school. Be a person again._

Dean didn't know why he kept thinking about this conversation with his brother, but his mind insisted on going back to it. He and Sam were a motel room in Chicago, getting weapons ready to fight what they thought was the demon that killed their mother. It turned out to be a trap intended to ensnare their father, but luckily he was smart – or lucky – enough to avoid it. He was in their room when Sam and Dean returned, but the three of them were almost killed by shadow demons and ended up splitting up again.

Dean knew Sam didn't want to live as a hunter, but this had been the first time his younger brother actually voiced it.

_I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way._

It hadn't been easy for Dean to let his brother go, but he had done it. Sam was back in school, living a fairly normal life – as normal a life as someone with visions could live – but what did that leave for Dean? How could he be the older brother, the protector, when that isn't what Sam needed anymore?

Dean heard Sam take a sudden deep breath. Having heard that same sound many times before, he knew Sam had just woken up from a nightmare.

OooOooOooO

Sam's eyes flew open and he rushed to Dean's side. His brother was still breathing; his heart was still beating. The monitors indicated his condition had not changed while Sam slept, but still the younger brother was worried. Not all of his dreams came true and that's what he kept telling himself as he struggled to breathe normally. He wasn't always able to tell the difference between a normal dream and a premonition and either way, he didn't like seeing Dean die.

"Dean," he whispered to his still unconscious brother. "I don't know if you can hear me, but – man, you have to wake up. Things will be okay if you just wake up."

He glanced up as the door opened. A man wearing a suit stepped into the room.

"Are you Sam Winchester?"

The brothers had used hundreds of aliases over the years and even though it was rarely necessary anymore, it was strange to hear a stranger use his real name. He nodded.

"I'm Sergeant Gregs with the Phoenix police department. How's he doing?"

"No change."

"I'd like to talk to you; can we step outside?"

Sam didn't want to leave his brother's side, but he also didn't want to risk Dean overhearing their conversation and he knew that was possible. Reluctantly, he walked to the hall with the police officer.

"Do you know why your brother is in Phoenix?" Sergeant Gregs asked.

"No." Sam could answer truthfully. He had no idea. "He moves around a lot."

"What does he do for a living?"

"Odd jobs. We were pretty transient growing up and I guess he just got used to that."

The detective nodded, making notes in a small book. "When was the last time you talked to him?"

"Two or three days ago."

"Any idea who might have wanted to beat him up?"

"Dean has a way of bringing that out in people. Is that what happened to him?"

"Judging from the injuries, yes. He was found in an alley – do you have any idea why he might have been in the alley?"

"None." Again, Sam could answer truthfully. "Are you sure that's where it happened?"

"Fairly. There's enough evidence to suggest that's where it happened. There are a couple of bars near the same alley –"

"Sometimes Dean plays pool for money." Sam offered, hoping the detective wouldn't look too closely into his brother's activities. The Winchesters were almost part of regular society now, but there were things from the past that probably didn't need to be scrutinized by law enforcement.

The detective nodded. "That's not always the safest way to earn extra money."

"No kidding." Sam agreed.

"You're in college?" the detective asked.

"Law school. Stanford."

"Good for you. Is there any other family?"

"Our father in Oregon. I haven't told him about this yet. I was kind of hoping I wouldn't have to."

"I understand. Well, I don't think I need anything else for now. I'll check back to see how he's doing. Is there somewhere you can be reached?"

"I don't know where I'm staying yet. I'll give you my cell number."

The detective wrote it down then closed the notebook. "Your brother was registered at the Desert Inn; we found the key in his pocket. His personal effects were turned over to the hospital. We searched his room at the motel and didn't find anything – he had car keys in his pocket, but we don't know what kind of car to look for yet and –"

"It's an Impala." Sam said quietly, immediately regretting it.

"Honestly, Mr. Winchester, I don't hold out a lot of hope for finding whoever beat up your brother, but we're not closing the case. You can collect his things at the motel if you want to." the detective said. "Including his car, if it's there."

"Thanks." Sam said slowly, noting a change to the police officer's demeanor.

I'll be in touch, Mr. Winchester."

Sam nodded as the detective walked toward the elevators. He saw Elizabeth behind the nurses' station desk and walked up to her.

"Hi, Sam." she smiled.

"Hi. I – uh – I was thinking I'd take off for a while; find a motel room, get cleaned up. I just wanted to make sure I got to thank you for earlier –"

She waved her hand. "No need. Besides, you'll see me again. Oh, I have something for you."

He looked at her curiously as she handed him a large envelope.

"It's your brother's stuff. I thought you might want it."

"Thank you."

"The Desert Inn is about ten blocks from here." she said and gave him directions.

"Thank you." he said again. Walking toward the elevators, he could have sworn he felt a hand touch his arm gently, but he was alone in the hallway. Even the nurses' station was empty.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers… no copyright infringement intended; just a tribute to an amazing show. Thanks to Kelli for beta reading and to everyone who had read or will read this. _

Chapter 2

Dean heard the police officer come into the room and knew he and Sam went out to the hallway. He wished he could hear their conversation; he hoped Sam remembered the right things to say to keep the suspicion at a minimum.

He was worried about Sam, but knew his little brother – his _brother_ – was a capable adult and didn't need his concern. Soon he would graduate from law school and, with his brains, he'd have his pick of any job. Dean saw him precious little now; he couldn't imagine what would happen when Sam didn't have long breaks from school or when he was in court for weeks and wouldn't even have time for a phone call.

Stop being so pathetic, Dean thought to himself. Didn't Sam drop everything to come here when he found out you needed him? But that's the problem, isn't it? _I_ need _him_. Dean could see Mary again; she seemed to be a little closer this time.

OooOooOooO

Sam drove to the Desert Inn. He saw Dean's car as soon as he pulled into the parking lot and, after a quick search, he turned his attention to the motel room. There were a few clothes scattered about, but nothing indicated it was anything more than Dean's normal slobbish tendencies. There was also nothing to indicate what might have brought him to Arizona. The motel was close enough to the hospital, so he went to the office to put the room in his own name. He asked the desk clerk a few questions, but he hadn't been on duty when Dean checked in and, as far as he knew, there had been no problems while he stayed there.

After a more thorough search of the Impala, which revealed nothing, Sam went back to the room to shower. He considered calling his father; maybe John had an idea of what brought Dean here. He decided, though, that he didn't want to worry his father yet. After showering, Sam dumped the contents of the envelope he'd gotten from Elizabeth on one of the beds. Dean's cell phone was there, but the battery was dead. He found the charger and plugged it in, thinking maybe there were messages that might shed light on Dean's reason for being in town.

Sam was tired, but he didn't feel right being away from Dean. He grabbed a fast food hamburger on is way back to the hospital and managed to force half of it down before reaching the parking lot. The rest of it went into a nearby trashcan.

He walked out of the elevator and saw Dr. Reynolds leaving Dean's room. When he stopped at the nurses' station, Sam rushed toward him.

"Oh, Mr. Winchester." he started. "I'm glad you're here. There's been a change in your brother's condition."

Sam didn't think the doctor's tone sounded positive. "What's happened?"

The doctor finished making notes in Dean's chart, then turned his attention to Sam. "He's developed a fever. That means he has an infection of some type. I've ordered antibiotics and some blood work. It's probably nothing to worry about at this point. I'll check on him again later."

As Sam went to his brother's room, he decided he definitely didn't like this doctor's way of delivering bad news. He moved a chair back to Dean's bedside and, as he sat down, he glanced at the monitor. Dean's temperature was just over 101 degrees.

"This isn't good, Dean. You're supposed to wake up, not get worse." Sam said, putting his hand on Dean's arm. "I went to your motel; I'm staying in your room. Your car is okay. Damn, Dean, you haven't left me any clues to figure out why you're here. The cops think you were beaten up; maybe you were. Is there something I need to be hunting here, man?"

Sam watched Dean closely. He could feel the heat coming from his brother and desperately wished he knew what to do. On the one hand, he felt like he should be out there ripping Phoenix apart to figure out why Dean was here and to find whatever – or whoever – had done this to him. But even the little while he'd spent away from him earlier made him feel guilty.

A nurse walked into the room later to check on the patient and found Sam asleep next to his bed, his head on his brother's arm. As quietly as possible, she went about her business and left him sleeping.

Dean was glad that Sam was asleep. He wished he was asleep in a comfortable bed rather than a hard chair next to his bed. Dean knew he was getting worse; he could see Mary in the distance again.

OooOooOooO

Dean's fever had not dropped by the next morning, so he was put on a different medication. When the test results came back inconclusive, the doctor ordered more. Sam waited in the hospital cafeteria while his brother was being tended to. He drank coffee and tried to eat, but the food held little interest for him. He had been by his brother's side in a hospital more than once, but every time before he knew exactly what happened. This time, he didn't even know why his brother was in Phoenix, let alone what happened to him and that was making him crazy. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed his father's number.

After a lot of physical therapy and hard work, John Winchester managed to get out of the wheelchair he'd been sentenced to after the car accident that almost killed him and his sons. He would probably always need the cane he now used, but that was acceptable, considering he wasn't expected to ever walk again. He was sometimes frustrated by this limit on his mobility, but it was something he was learning to live with.

He had just finished his daily exercising when the phone rang. He grabbed the receiver as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

"Hello?"

"Dad? It's Sam."

John heard the worry in his younger son's voice. "What's wrong, Son?"

"It's Dean. Dad. He – he's in the hospital; he's in a coma and he's developed a fever."

"What? What happened?"

"I don't know. I got a call – God, was it only yesterday? I don't know. I'm with him in Phoenix."

"Phoenix? What's he doing in Phoenix?"

"I don't know that, either. Dad, I don't have any idea what's going on. I know I've seen Dean through a lot of injuries, but something about this time – I'm scared, Dad."

"It's okay, Sam." John said. "I'll get there as soon as I can. Keep me updated."

"I will, Dad."

"Sam –"

"I know, Dad. I'll see you soon."

Before leaving the motel, Sam checked Dean's cell phone. There were no messages and the call history shed no light on the mystery of why Dean was in Phoenix.

OooOooOooO

_I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?_

_It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be something to hunt._

_But there's gotta be something that you want for yourself_.

Something he wanted for himself. Dean never thought about what he might want for himself. When Sam was born, he wanted his little brother to be happy and he wanted to be the best big brother ever. After his mother died, he wanted his father not to be so sad all the time. As he learned to hunt, and found out about all the evil in the world, he wanted to help make everyone safe. But Dean never thought about what he might want for himself. All of those things _were_ for him in a way.

Protecting Sam and watching him laugh made Dean happy. Eventually, when John wasn't quite so sad about Mary's death, Dean was happier too. He worked hard to be what John wanted him to be so his father would be less sad. There were innocent people all over the place that were harassed and tormented by spirits, demons and other creatures most people didn't believe were real. Every time he helped someone, Dean felt good and felt as if he were one step closer to the thing that killed his mother.

Now that they destroyed what killed Mary, he wondered what he should be doing. He thought he would want to keep hunting, but it wasn't as satisfying as it used to be. Recently, he realized, he only half-heartedly looked for new jobs and was even grateful that Sam's premonitions were seemingly taking a break.

He hadn't realized any of this before ending up in the hospital, but being in a coma gave a person a lot of time to think.

What was he if not a hunter? Sam knew all along he didn't want to do this forever.

_I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way._

Even his father seemed to have found a new life. But what about him? What was he supposed to do?

First thing, Dean told himself, is to stop being such a pussy. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and suck it up.

OooOooOooO

Sam didn't need the doctor to tell him that Dean's fever had gone up. He could read the monitor for himself, but still the words came as a blow. His brother had a blood infection and he wasn't responding to the first two antibiotics the doctor prescribed, so another one had been ordered.

John was on a plane headed for Phoenix and didn't know about this latest turn of events. Sam spent some time back at the motel researching; the same way he had when Dean suffered a heart attack following an electrocution during a hunt. The prognosis then was death, but that was not something Sam was willing to accept. Even the blunt Dr. Reynolds had not yet mentioned this, but Sam knew enough to know that an infection running rampant through the body of someone in a coma was not a positive thing.

First he studied the medical implications, then he moved onto the potential supernatural solutions. He had fallen asleep at the computer, but woke up when his cell phone began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Sam, it's your father. I'm at the airport, about ready to get a cab. What's going on?"

"Dad." Sam ran his fingers through is hair and checked the time. He'd been away from the hospital longer than he expected. "I've been at the motel for a while, but – Dean's fever went up. The doctor is saying he has a blood infection and he put him on a different antibiotic. This is the third one."

He heard John sigh. "Have you gotten any rest, Sam? Maybe you should stay at the motel for a while and –"

"Maybe later. I'm fine. I'll see you at the hospital."

OooOooOooO

John wasn't sure which son he was more worried about; the one in the hospital bed or the one who looked like he needed to be in one. Sam was sitting next to Dean's bed when John arrived; he looked more exhausted than John had ever seen him.

"Hey, Dad." Sam stood up and hugged his father.

"How are you holding up?" John asked, keeping an arm around his shoulders.

Sam shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"You look like crap."

Sam smiled. "You sound like Dean."

John returned the smile before turning his attention to his older son. He remained close to Sam, but put a hand on Dean's forehead. He frowned at the heat emanating from him and glanced at the monitor. Dean's temperature was close to 103 degrees.

"Dean." John said gently, lowering himself into the chair Sam had vacated. "You need to start getting better, Son."

Sam stood behind his father and watched as the older man talked to Dean and lovingly touched his arm. He'd longed for this kind of closeness with John growing up, but instead, John had been distant. Sam never doubted John's love for him and Dean, but it was easy to lose sight of it and whereas Dean struggled for John's approval and affection by trying to be the perfect son, Sam rebelled.

Still worried about his brother, but feeling more relaxed with John there, Sam sat down in the reclining chair Elizabeth had brought in earlier and was soon asleep.

OooOooOooO

John sat by Dean's bedside for hours while Sam slept nearby. He was surprised at how long Sam had been able to sleep, but knew he'd had a hard few days and didn't begrudge him the rest he obviously needed.

He glanced at Sam when the sound of his breathing changed and noticed he was restless in the recliner. His furrowed brow told John he was having a dream, but before he could get to him, Sam was awake.

"Sam?" John put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Sam looked around, confused for a moment, then straightened and nodded.

"How's Dean?"

"The same."

Sam leaned forward, covering his face with his hands.

"What is it?" John asked, worried.

Sam shook his head, his hands still over his face.

John knelt down in front of him. "Sammy, come on. Tell me."

Sam looked at him with tears in his eyes. "I've had the same dream twice now."

"Your dreams don't always come true." John said gently, a hand on Sam's knee.

"I know, but that doesn't make watching him die any easier."

As if on cue, Dean began to moan and one of the monitors attached to him sounded an alarm. Before John or Sam could move, a nurse rushed into the room. Moments later, another nurse asked them to wait outside while a team of medical staff descended on the room.

OooOooOooO

He was still alone in the semi-darkness that surrounded him, but gradually he realized he was sitting on the floor of his childhood bedroom, his hand on a toy dump truck. It didn't surprise him when Mary joined him on the floor.

"Dean." she smiled.

"Hi, Mom."

"I remember that truck. You got it for Christmas –"

"Our last Christmas together." Dean said sadly.

"I'm sorry." Mary said, matching his tone.

Dean looked at her, tears in his eyes. "It's not your fault. That demon – you know we got it, don't you?"

Mary nodded. "I know."

Dean nodded and turned his attention back to the truck. "I don't know what happened to this. Got burned up in the fire, I guess."

"You can't stay here." Mary said after a moment.

"Why not? I like it here. I was happy here."

"Sweetheart, _here_ doesn't exist anymore. You're grown up and other people live in the house. You have to go back to your life."

Dean snorted. "My life. _My life?_ I don't have a life, Mom."

"Why not?"

He looked at her, confused. "What?"

"You've hunted the demon; you've killed it. What do you want to do now?"

Dean looked down. "I don't know. I've always been John's son, Sam's big brother. I never got to be _Dean_ and I don't know how to do it."

"What are you hiding from?"

He didn't respond.

"Dean?"

"I'm not hiding." he said, barely above a whisper.

She reached out to touch his face. "Dean."

He looked at her with tears in his eyes. "I just hurt, Mom, and I don't know what to do." his voice caught and before he knew it, he was crying and being cradled in his mother's arms

"What are you afraid of, Sweetheart?" she asked, rocking him back and forth.

He held onto her tightly. Mary sat with him, holding him and trying to soothe him. Finally, he was spent. The crying stopped and his breathing calmed. Mary still held him lovingly.

"Dean?" she kissed the top of his head. "What are you afraid of?"

"That they don't need me. That's why I don't stay with them; that's why I move around."

"Your dad and brother? Why wouldn't they need you?"

"Sam's in school, Dad's living in Oregon. He doesn't hunt anymore, but he researches and trains."

"Why wouldn't they need you?" Mary asked again.

It took Dean a long time to respond. "All I know how to do is hunt."

"That isn't true, Dean. You're smart and you're young. You could do anything you want." she caressed his hair. "What about last year, when Sam was having trouble readjusting to school? You went to live with him for a while and you tended bar. You liked that, didn't you?"

"Tending bar? I guess."

"What about working on cars? You like that and you're good at it. Or electronics? And there's nothing that says you can't go to school."

Dean laughed. "Me? School? Right."

"Why not?"

"School's not my thing."

"Do you want to keep hunting?"

"I don't know. I don't think so." he looked at her. "Mom, Is that wrong?"

"Of course it isn't wrong. You've spent your life helping other people. Maybe you need to spend some time helping yourself. Or find another way to help them. Sweetie, it's okay to want a home, some roots." she soothed. "And what you said about your family not needing you? Nothing could be further from the truth, Dean."

She could tell Dean didn't believe her.

"Who does Sam call when he's had a bad day? Who does he call when something good has happened? He calls you, Dean. He wants to share these things with his best friend. And your dad? You're his son; his firstborn. He needs and loves you just for that, but he's so proud of the man you've become." she kissed him. "Your dad and your brother will always love you. They will always need you. They're your family."

"I don't want to go back, Mom. Can't I say here? With you?"

OooOooOooO

John watched as Sam anxiously paced in the waiting room down the hall from Dean's room. He didn't know what to say or do to calm him, so he didn't try. This certainly wasn't the first time they had to sit by and wait for a medical treatment to start working, but some things did not get easier with practice.

"Sam." John finally said.

"I feel like I should be out there finding out what happened to him." Sam said, turning toward his father. "Maybe I should be hunting something; finding –"

John put a hand on Sam's arm. "Don't do this to yourself. You've looked everywhere and there's no clue to what your brother was doing here. He may not have even been on a job."

"Then why was he here? Who beat him up?"

"I don't know, Sam. But I think right now it's more important to be here with your brother than out there trying to find who put him here."

Sam pulled away from his father and rubbed his face before he walked out of the waiting room to watch the activity near Dean's room. He leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his chest, chewing on his thumb.

"Sam?" Elizabeth seemed to come from nowhere. "They'll let you back in soon and Dean will be resting comfortably. But you're going to have to talk to him, Sam. You're going to have to convince him to come back to you."

He looked at her. "What do you mean? How could you possibly –"

"You're just going to have to trust me, Sam."

He watched as she walked away, but his attention turned when he heard Dean's room door open. He glanced back toward Elizabeth, but the hallway was empty.

"Mr. Winchester," the doctor began as he approached Sam.

"How is my brother?" he asked as John joined them in the hallway. Sam made quick introductions.

"Dean's blood pressure spiked. It was probably due to the stress of his other injuries and the infection. I have to tell you, I'm very concerned about him. None of the treatments we've tried so far has been successful. He's a very sick young man."

Neither Winchester liked hearing that.

"He's stable again, resting comfortably. You can go back in to sit with him."

"Dad," Sam began once the doctor was gone. "Do you mind if I have a few minutes alone with him?"

John was curious, but he only nodded. "Go ahead."

Sam walked into his brother's room. He glanced at the monitors, unhappy to see his temperature still close to one hundred three degrees.

"Dean." Sam's voice cracked and struggled to control his emotions. He leaned closer to Dean's ear and laid a hand on his brother's arm. "Dean, you have to fight this. You have to get better. Look, man, I know you've been going through something. I don't know what it is, but I've heard it in your voice. I wish you'd just talk to me; let me help."

OooOooOooO

"You hear him, don't you?" Mary asked.

Dean nodded. He was leaning against the small bed he slept in as a child. "I've always taken care of him. I've always put his needs first."

"You're the best big brother ever; just like you said you'd be." she smiled.

Dean looked at her, tears in his eyes. "I don't think I can do it this time. I don't think I can give Sam what he wants."

"Dean –"

"I've given Sammy all I have to give, Mom. And I'm tired."

Mary pulled him toward her. "Then let Sammy give to you. You're not finished living, Dean. I can feel it in you. I don't want to see you give up just because you're afraid to go on."

She felt him stiffen. "I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to figure that out right away. You're going to need time to recuperate from the injuries." Mary said, gently caressing his arm as she held him. "Stay with your dad, or with your brother, and heal. Heal your body and, this time, heal your heart."

Dean sat up. "I love you, Mom. I wish –"

She touched his cheek. "I love you, too. And remember, I'm always with you."

Dean watched as Mary stood up and walked toward the door. She paused and turned to face him. "I'm so proud of you, Dean. I know you can do this."

OooOooOooO

John was on one side of Dean's bed, Sam on the other, and each had a hand on him. His fever had gone up again and even the blunt Dr. Reynolds had taken to sympathetic looks when he came back to check on his patient.

Sam didn't know how much time passed while he and his father sat silently with Dean. He was afraid his brother had already given up; that he'd given up long before he even received the injuries and he didn't know how he could ever live with that.

Even during their separation, Dean hadn't left Sam alone. He knew that if he ever needed Dean, his brother would be there. Later, he learned that John and Dean made frequent trips to Stanford to make sure he was all right and maybe he should have been angry that they made these secret visits and never tried to talk to him, but instead, he felt loved.

Right now, he felt that he'd failed Dean.

_God, can you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon? _

_Let's not get ahead of ourselves._

_I know, I'm just saying what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school. Be a person again._

_You'd go back to school?_

_Yeah, once we're done hunting the thing._

_Huh._

_Why? Is there something wrong with that?_

_No. No, it's great. Good for you._

_I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?_

_It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be something to hunt._

_But there's gotta be something; that you want for yourself._

Dean never wanted anything more than for his family to be together again. He finally came to understand that even if they weren't physically together, they were still a family. But when Sam went back to school and started living the life he'd wanted to live for so long, and even their father settled into something close to a conventional life, Dean was left out. Neither John nor Sam intended for that to happen, but all Dean ever learned how to do was please his father and protect his brother, and all he thought he was good for was hunting. Sam knew his brother lost his passion for hunting after they killed the demon they'd chased for so long, but yet that's still what Dean did. Sam felt he let his brother down because he didn't try harder to get Dean to stay with him and do something other than hunt.

"Dad?" Sam said quietly. John looked at him. "We're going to lose him."

"Sam –"

"He's not fighting to come back. He doesn't think he has anything to come back to."

"What are you talking about?"

"He feels left out, Dad. He's lost and he doesn't want to come back to that feeling."

"How do you know that?" John whispered.

"I just do." his eyes filled with tears.

John left Dean's side and moved to his younger son. With one hand around Sam's shoulders and the other resting on Dean's arm, John quietly tried to offer comfort and strength to both of his boys.

"Dean," Sam leaned forward. "You have to listen to me. Look, man, I'm not going to ask you to come back for me, or even for Dad. We both need you and we're not ready to let you go yet, but you have to want to come back for yourself. I know it's hard. It's hard for me, too. But you have so much to offer. Even when you're being a huge pain in the ass."

John smiled and squeezed Sam's shoulder.

Dean was surrounded by darkness again. His mother was gone and he couldn't feel his old bedroom around him anymore. Off in the distance he could see his brother and his father; the two people that meant more to him than anyone else on the planet. He suddenly felt an overwhelming need to be with them.

OooOooOooO

"Hey, man." Sam smiled when he walked into Dean's room two mornings later. "How're you feeling?"

"Hey." Dean was sitting in the recliner. "The doctor said I could get out of here this afternoon. Fever has been completely gone for over 12 hours."

"That's great."

"You get school straightened out?"

"Yeah" Sam sat on the foot of the bed across from his brother. "I called my professors and told them my dumbass big brother got himself hurt and they all gave me extensions on my assignments."

"Dumbass big brother, huh?"

Sam smiled momentarily. "You gonna tell me what happened?"

Dean looked away, but he heard his mother's voice telling him to talk to his brother.

"What were you doing in Phoenix, man?"

"I was on my way to Bisbee. I heard about some strange lights, a lot of disappearances. I thought it might be our – my – kind of gig. I needed some cash, thought a night out would be fun. I guess I hustled the wrong crowd."

Sam looked at him. "Did you hustle the wrong crowd on purpose?"

Dean briefly closed his eyes.

"Why, Dean?"

"Look, it was a mistake. I thought it was a good idea at the time –"

"Why, Dean?" Sam asked again.

Dean looked at him, then looked away. He cleared his throat. "I – uh – I was feeling sorry for myself, I guess. Maybe a little left out and smothered at the same time. I don't want to hunt any more, Sammy. At least not for a while. But I don't know what else to do."

Sam was about to respond, but Dean continued. "So I think I'm going to stay at Dad's for a while and try to figure it out."

"With Dad?" Sam was a little disappointed, but he tried to hide it. "That's good."

After a moment, Sam leaned forward. "Look. Dean, if you ever feel like – just – I'm here for you, okay?"

"I know you are, Sammy." Dean said quietly, holding out his hand.

Sam shook it then gently pulled his brother into an embrace. A moment later, Dean pulled away.

"No sarcastic comment?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "Not this time."

OooOooOooO

Sam watched the next morning as his father and brother headed off in the Impala. He knew he had to get back to school and get the car back to the friend he borrowed it from, but he felt a pang of regret that he wasn't with his family. He knew there would be phone calls, and he was already planning to visit over the break from school that was coming up.

He glanced to the passenger seat as he started the car and wasn't surprised to see his mother sitting there. She seemed to show up often since they'd killed the demon.

"Did you send him back?" he asked.

"No, but I might have pushed him in the right direction."

"What about Elizabeth? I asked around because I wanted to thank her, but no one knew who she was."

"I thought you might need a little push yourself."

"Thank you."

Mary smiled. "Dean needs to be with John for now, but he's going to need you, too. He has a long way to go."

Sam looked out of the windshield. "Yeah, I know."

"You'd better get on the road, Sam. You have a long drive ahead of you and a lot of work to get caught up on. Drive safely, Sweetheart. I love you."

He looked back at the passenger seat, but it was empty. "I love you, too." He started the engine and headed back toward California.


End file.
